


Pancakes and Syrup

by serpent_and_wyrm



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-19
Updated: 2014-09-19
Packaged: 2018-02-18 01:13:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2329832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serpent_and_wyrm/pseuds/serpent_and_wyrm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred decides to visit Mathew for a short afternoon snack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pancakes and Syrup

“Who are you?”  
Mathew let out an exasperated sigh. It was no longer a miracle that his pet bear Kumajiji (or was it Kumajiro? He could never remember) could talk, but had become more of a nuisance instead.   
“I’m Mathew, your owner. You should have memorized that by now.”  
“If you’re Mathew,” Kumajiro said, pointing a fluffy white paw at the door, “then who’s that?”  
There was a figure outside, not quite visible through the glass.  
“I don’t know,” replied Mathew, putting Kumajiro on the floor and reaching for the doorknob.  
As soon as his fingers made contact with the cool metal the door swung open, nearly flattening him against the wall.   
“Hey Mathew bro!” came a familiar voice, “Where are you?”  
“Alfred,” Mathew whispered, taping his guest’s shoulder, “I’m here. Right next to you.”  
Alfred jumped, his dirty blonde hair flopping up and down.  
“Dude!” he said, putting a hand on his twin’s shoulder, “I didn’t see you there!”   
“Of course you didn’t” Mathew muttered.  
Alfred was what most would call the “alpha twin”. He was loud, powerful, and important. Half the time he didn’t even notice his sibling. It was if Mathew was invisible, to him and most of the world. It was a miracle Alfred even knew his address.  
“So,” said Alfred, breaking the brief silence that had followed, “Wanna play catch?”  
“No thank you,” answered Mathew, fingering the many bruises that had been the result of a past game, “But is that the reason you came? To play catch?”  
“Not exactly,” said Alfred, rubbing the back of his neck, “I got bored, so I came here.”  
“You could’ve gone to Arthur.”  
“Iggy? That old geezer? No way.”  
“He’s only 23.”  
“Yeah, but he acts like my superior. Always bossing me around calling me an idiot.”  
Alfred cleared his throat and began to imitate Arthur’s strong English accent.  
“Alfred, do this! Alfred, do that! Alfred, you bloody git!” he shouted in a voice slightly louder than usual.  
“He did raise you,” Mathew said, chuckling at the impression.  
“So?”  
There was another moment of quiet as the twins thought of things to say.  
“Um,” said Canada, “Why do you call Arthur Iggy?”  
“Kiku Honda calls him Ingurando, so I shortened that name to Iggy. Ingurando must mean something in Japanese, but I don’t know what.”  
“Speaking of Kiku, why not hang out with him?”  
“He’s busy. Besides, aren’t you happy I came over? It’s almost like you don’t want me here.”  
“N-no! That’s not what I was thinking at all!”   
“Good. Now lets eat cuz both me and your talking bear are gonna starve.”  
Indeed, Kumajiro had begun to pull at Mathew’s pant leg, whining the word “hungry” in his adorable but also annoying high-pitched voice.   
“Both of you eat to much,” complained Mathew, picking up the bear and squeezing it rather tightly to his chest, “but I could make you some pancakes. You go get fish for Kumajojo.”  
“Sounds good,” replied Alfred, heading towards the kitchen.

The pancakes sizzled quietly on the frying pan. Mathew watched them with the eyes of a hawk; pancakes were practically his life. Alfred leaned against the kitchen counter, tossing the baseball he had brought with him into the air and catching it again. He never missed. Kumajiro sat tamely in a corner, chewing his fish contentedly. There was an awkward silence, save the hissing coming from the oven top and the sound of the bear eating.   
Mathew flipped over one of the circular cakes and shoveled it onto a plate. He handed the dish and it’s contents to his brother, who grabbed a bottle of maple syrup and poured it on his meal like there was no tomorrow.  
“Alfred,” Mathew said, walking to the table with his own pancakes, “please don’t use up all of the syrup.”   
“Mrrf?” questioned Alfred, looking up innocently, food hanging from his mouth.  
Mathew snatched the amber-colored bottle from his brother’s hand. Though it had originally been a full bottle, half of it was now gone. Sighing, the teenager poured a medium amount onto his plate and screwed the cap back on, setting it on the table.  
“I miss living with you,” said Alfred, swallowing his mouthful.  
“W-what?” Mathew said, stuttering for the second time that day, “y-you do?”  
“Yeah,” replied Alfred, wiping his mouth with the back of his arm, “we had fun together when we were kids. Back when Francis, Arthur, you and I lived together. Francis made good food.”  
Of course it’s because of the food, thought Mathew, trying to hide his disappointment.  
“But that’s not the only reason,” continued Alfred, “we used to play games. We went on adventures. But now I get lonely sometimes.”  
Mathew nearly spit out his pancake.   
“But you have so many friends!” he said, “there’s Kiku and Tony and Arthur and Toris…”  
“Even they get fed up with me sometimes. And I didn’t spend most of my life with them, did I?”  
“B-but…”  
“Just accept it bro.”  
Alfred put his plate on the counter.  
“I miss you.”  
Mathew turned bright red. It was a small hug that Alfred had given him. It had only lasted a second before disappearing into the void of time.  
Just a tiny moment…  
“I miss you too, Alfred,” he said, giving his brother a small kiss on the cheek.  
“Awww,” said Kumajiro quietly, “Mathew and Alfred.”


End file.
